Court Martial of Hoshi Sato
by JMK758
Summary: Hoshi must pay the price for her actions on Declan IV. Will a trial on a charge of Insubordination signal the end of her career?
1. In Durance Vile

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Enterprise and everything connected with it, except Tia Anlor (Tee-ah' Ahn'-lor), who belongs to me and I'm not sharing. (G)

This is the 25th story in this series, the others being 'Casting Call', 'Golden Girl'; 'A Few Words'; 'Glistni'; 'Small Time'; 'Acquisition'; 'What Do I Do Now?'; 'For Want of Kilyiis'; 'Daasii'; 'Noblesse Oblige'; 'Roses and Thorny'; 'Time and Again', 'House of Cards', 'Starlight Maiden', 'Armageddon', 'Luuru', 'Cross and Crown', 'Pulsar', 'Face in the Dark Mirror', 'Time Stream', 'Treaty Violation', 'Humiliatum', 'Clara', 'Life Goes On' and 'Sufferance'. This story takes place the day after 'Sufferance'.

Later works will include 'Empress Sato', 'Extreme Prejudice', 'Fractured', 'Take the Clouds from your Eyes', 'Unification' and 'Two Golden Candles'.

Rating: G

"The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft' interred with their bones." Marc Anthony – 'Julius Caesar'.

Court Martial of Hoshi Sato

By JMK758

Prologue

(_From 'Sufferance'_)

Hoshi Sato enters the bridge, finding it unchanged yet alien. Things and people are exactly where they should be, but her apprehension lends an air of strangeness to everything. It feels like all eyes are on her as she crosses to her station. She glances at Ann Anderson manning the Situation Room, but the woman averts her eyes, then looks back guiltily, embarrassed at having done so. But though she tries to smile, it is lackluster at best. Hoshi is unpleasantly surprised to find Crewwoman Grace Winters, her Beta Shift relief officer, seated in her place. The blonde woman looks up. "Captain wants to see you."

Those five words drive an icy blade into her heart. She looks across the round bridge at the door to the Captain's private sanctum. She tries to stiffen up her courage. She'd know nothing until she went in, and maybe a miracle has happened and she has been forgiven.

She crosses the bridge in front of Travis, and the sympathetic look in his eyes is hard to bear. Instead, she tries to not notice if anyone else is watching.

The fear that had been her constant and unwelcome companion and tormentor over her first months on this ship has come out of hiding to ambush her.

She stops outside the door, trying to keep her finger from trembling as she reaches for the annunciation button. "Come." The voice coming out of the intercom is faint, but still too loud. She can not pretend not to have heard it. Pressing the other button, she steps through the sliding door, going down the three steps and keying the inner door.

She couldn't come further in as the door slid shut half an inch behind her back. Jonathan Archer is seated exactly where she'd left him only a little more than an hour before. He holds a thin square data module in his hand. She tries not to read anything into the fact that it is black.

He sets it down and looks at her, his expression grim. "You're Relieved of Duty."

x

Hoshi opens her mouth. She wants so say something. Anything. She tries _so hard_ but nothing comes out.

He stands up, as if he can not sit still either. "I'm sorry. By Starfleet Order, you are confined to the brig pending Special Court Martial."

She tries to speak. To plead. To … to … anything. He comes around the desk, taking her arm gently and turning her toward the door. She needs his help getting out of the room. He escorts her onto the bridge, and she prays she can wake up.

"Your attention please." Archer says, grasping everyone's attention. They look at their Commanding Officer, mildly surprised to see him gripping Hoshi Sato's arm. His next words transform their surprise into shock. "Per Starfleet orders this date, Hoshi Sato is hereby Relieved of Duty as Ensign in charge of Communications for this ship. She is remanded to the custody of ship's Security and ordered to be held in the brig pending Special Court Martial. Hearing is to convene at 1500 hours today. Lt Reed?"

The Tactical Officer / Chief of Security looks at the pair, unable to believe what his Captain has just said. "Sir?"

"You will escort the prisoner to the brig immediately, and leave her under guard."

"Yes, sir." Reed replies, monumental disbelief in his tone. It all seems too familiar. It had been a little more than a week since he had taken Mary Tigat, from his own Security Division, off the bridge. He comes around his station, taking Hoshi's arm, waiting for Archer to say 'just kidding'.

But there is no such reprieve.

x

Hoshi feels like she is moving through a nightmare, her body unresponsive; her mind unable to function, unable to deal with the surreal scene. She is under arrest. She is really under _arrest_. She is about to be pulled off the bridge in disgrace and locked in a _cell_!

This can't really be happening.

It _can't_!

Reed's gentle tug on her arm gets her legs moving, but her mind works no more for her than does her body. She keeps hearing her thoughts repeat over and over in her head; 'Wake up. Wake up. Please, somebody – _let me wake up_!'

When Reed has to turn her around in the turbo lift, she sees her friends staring at her in varying degrees of shock. It is on that tableau that the door closes.

Chapter One

In Durance Vile

Hoshi Sato sits alone in the brig, unable to stop trembling. She supposes she should be grateful to be alone, that former Crewwoman Mary Tigat had been transferred six days ago on rendezvous with the freighter 'Horizon', bound for Alpha Centauri. She did not want to see Tigat ever again, but part of her wanted company, if only to tell her that she is not alone, cast off in the universe.

She can not believe it. She is actually confined to the _brig_. She had been in this room more than once, but always on the other side of this door, always a respected officer performing her duties. She had never entered this cell, had never wanted to. She had avoided it almost as if she had not wanted to tempt fate.

And now she is here.

She sits on her bunk, the only soft surface in the entire room. The bulkhead is titanium and duraplast, the door transparent aluminum with irregularly placed holes in it for air and voice; everything is hard except for her bunk. She sits huddled on the bunk, her hands clasped before her, trying to stop trembling, trying to regain her control, trying not to cry.

For the fiftieth time she reviews the events that had forced her into this room, looking for an answer, looking for a reason, looking for _something_ that would justify…

All right, she would be the first to admit that she had screwed up on Declan IV. She had been so humiliated, so outraged, so furious that she had gotten into Charles Tucker's face and said some hateful, furious things; things that, if not for the fact that she was a woman, he probably would have punched her in her jaw.

But he had not hit her. He would not have done so. Instead he had followed Regulations and had preferred Charges against her. Charges that were apparently so serious that they had gone even beyond the control of Captain Archer himself; so serious that they had to have been referred to Starfleet Command.

And now, for losing control of her temper, she is in the brig, about to be Court Martialed. In three hours! She is going to be tried, possibly be censured, possibly lose some status, possibly lose her rank; possibly lose her place on Enterprise.

Almost two years ago she would have done anything to get off this ship; to get away from the constant fear space travel inflicted upon her; to return to her life as a Teacher in Brazil. Now she wants nothing more than to _stay_.

Only one other time in her career had she been in this much trouble – and that time she had not been Court Martialed. Granted, she had received a Bad Conduct Discharge and had been thrown out of Starfleet, but she had not been Court Martialed.

Now she sits alone, completely alone, so alone that she could be the only one in the universe. Outside that outer door are over eighty of her friends; or so she had thought. Over eighty; and she is alone.

x

She tries to imagine how Mary Tigat had felt, sitting in the cell next to hers all these weeks. The entire crew had been angry with Tigat; Hoshi included. No one had come to visit; no one but Reverend McCabe; and she only because it was part of her duty. Tigat had sat here for hours, days, weeks, completely alone. No friends to visit. No one.

At least she is better off, Hoshi thinks. She knows when the axe is going to fall. In less than three hours they will be coming for her, to figuratively drag her down to the Mess Hall where her Court Martial is to be held, where she will face her fate; face her doom.

She tries to wonder if perhaps she would be exonerated, if they would be lenient, but she can not lie to herself. If it had been just Commander Tucker and the Captain, Jonathan Archer would find a more lenient solution to this problem. Some kind of punishment that would mollify the Commander, teach her the error of her ways, but not lead to anything 'fatal' to her Career.

But whatever the specific Charges were – and she does not even know them – _Starfleet_ had ordered her confinement and the Court Martial.

She has no illusions of getting out of this.

x

She has been sitting here, alone, for about an hour. She had tried to keep her patience, to keep herself calm, but finally she can stand it no longer. "Guard?" She calls loudly. She had been sitting here alone for too long. If she was going to be tried in less than two hours, she has to speak to an Advocate – to someone. She has to plan her defense. "Guard?" She calls more loudly. She can not hear a thing through the door.

Standing up, she steps to the transparent aluminum 'door'. "Guard?" She calls louder still. "HEY!" She shouts. "Is anybody even _out there_?" Growing more frustrated, she took a deep breath and shouts "GUA-!" The door slid open and she bites the yell in half.

But it is actually surprise that silences her, for it is not a Security Officer coming in, but her closest friend, Ensign Elizabeth Cutler. She steps inside and, as the door slides shut behind her, she smiles teasingly at Hoshi. "Well, if I had known you were going to _yell_ at me, I wouldn't have come." She half turns away.

"Please, don't go." She can't hold back a desperate tone, even though she knows her friend would not leave.

"Of course, hon." Liz says placatingly, sorry to have teased her, surprised to find Hoshi in such a state that she would even have considered it.

"You're the first person I've seen. I haven't even seen my Advocate, or even know who, if anyone; is assigned to me."

"You're kidding." Hoshi gives her a look that needs no words. "That's preposterous. I know we don't have a lawyer aboard, but _really_."

"That was the issue with Tigat. She _wanted_ a trial, but there was no one to defend her. I never imagined I'd be _following_ her."

x

Liz Cutler touches a control, and the door between them slides open. She steps in and hugs her friend. "Don't worry, hon," she whispers, "you'll get through this." She draws Hoshi to the bunk, and they both sit down.

"I don't know. I'm getting a bit scared."

"A bit?" Liz asks with a wry smile.

"All right." She admits. "I'm a _lot_ scared. I really don't know _why_ I'm here. I keep reviewing the incident, and I can't find anything that, in fairness, merits a Court Martial. Granted things didn't go well, but no matter how badly I screwed up on Declan IV, I really don't think I _deserve_ this!"

"What exactly did you do?" Liz asks, seeking more information.

"I _told_ you!"

"Everything?"

"Absolutely everything. And Tia must have given you the rest."

"Yeah, she did." She shakes her head in disbelief. "Damn, all that deserves is a fist in the mouth. Not a Court Martial. Hell, if you'd said it to me, I'd probably just deck you and be done with it."

"Thanks. But can you really picture Commander Tucker punching me?"

"_Oh Yeah_." She grins, knowing it was wildly outrageous but unable to resist digging her friend.

"You're a big fragging help."

"That's what I'm here for." Liz is unable to lose her supportive grin.

x

But then she looks around the Spartan room, her efforts to lighten her friend's mood evaporating. "I never imagined either of us being in here." She admits.

"Well, take a good look around." Hoshi says bitterly, slapping the wall behind her. "Real steel." She puts her head in her hands. "Real trouble."

"Hey." Liz says, putting her arm around Hoshi's shoulders, trying to keep her from sinking into depression. "Hang in there. You're tough. You'll beat this."

x

Hoshi picks up her head. "You know one thing I never realized about this place? The quiet. This place is _totally_ soundproofed. I was yelling for the guard, I don't think he even heard me. I could scream my head off in here and no one would know. The guard could come in and _rape_ me, and no one would ever _know_."

"The guard is Jim."

Hoshi bites her lip, embarrassed. She hadn't known it was Liz's boyfriend outside. "Sorry. My mouth is still getting me into trouble."

"Forget it. I imagine he never even thought of it." She pauses, then says brightly; "I could suggest it to him."

"No, thanks!"

"Seriously, it might relieve the boredom."

"I'm not bored."

"I wasn't talking about you. You know how dull that corridor out there is?"

Hoshi grins, grateful for the chance to. "Sure, you do that."

"Maybe I will." Liz replies with a smirk.

"Great. Now every time that door opens, I'm going to jump."

"If that's how you want to get your exercise. Personally, I-."

"Don't start." Liz laughs. "So, that's how you got in?"

"I threatened to cut him off." She explains lightly. Hoshi looks more closely at her, surprised.

"I didn't think you should … well …" Her voice trails off. This is really _way_ too personal. Liz laughs.

"I'm pregnant, not _dead_. Besides; there are plenty of things an imaginative couple can do. And I assured him that if he didn't let me in, then for the next eight months 'imagination' was all he was going to _get_!"

x

"Hey, what if all this is some kind of alien plot to get you out of the way?" Liz speculates.

"Huh?"

"What if alien agents are influencing the officers? Just think of it a moment. You're away from your post. Grace Winters and Rich Malloy are now going to be working 12 hour shifts. What if whatever is supposed to happen happens at the 11th hour, while one of them is fatigued. You're not there to do your 'instant translate' thingy. They're not as good as you. What if one of them misses something ultra-important?"

Hoshi thinks about this. It is not as outrageous as it sounds, considering their past experiences. "But then why schedule the Court for 3 hours? What good would that do? Grace is just starting shift a little early; there's too little time for her to grow that fatigued before something happens. What if the trial exonerates me, or I get a message to someone – or you do? How would this help any aliens?"

"I don't know. Conspiracy theories I'm good at. Making sense of the logic holes – that's a lot harder."

Hoshi raises her hand, but Liz's grin stops her. "Thanks a lot. My neck is in the noose and you're making jokes."

"I'm sorry, hon." Liz commiserates, putting her hand on Hoshi's knee. "I really want to help, but I can't find any sense in this either."

"Your only problem is that you watch too much of those archaic 'X-files' of yours."

x

Hoshi's smile does not last long. "I remember I even pushed the envelope with Commander Tucker on Risa."

"Huh?" Liz asks, left behind by the sudden change in tracks.

"When Tia had finished her Luuru, and I wouldn't let him know anything for hours?" She reminds the woman. "I kept cutting off his calls, 'hanging up' on him. I _know_ he hates that, but I thought I was just stringing him along for the best reasons; to build up his anticipation and appreciation. I wanted him to really appreciate the moment when he saw Tia after the change, in that red gown, at dinner at the Starlight. Tia told me later that they danced all _night_. But now, in retrospect, I think maybe he didn't see it that way." She leans closer to Liz, apprehension growing. "Do you think he's had it in for me all this time, and just now –?"

"No." Liz cuts her off definitely. "You know that's not true as much as I do. He's given you no indication he is anything other than grateful for all that we did for Tia – and you _know_ he's not the kind of man that nurses a grudge. If he _had_ been annoyed with you, he'd have told you to your face weeks ago."

"That's true." She admits, calming. "But then _why_ am I in here?" She falls back against the wall with a sigh. "Why didn't he just knock my teeth out and be done with it?"


	2. Illegitimus non Carborondum Est!

Chapter Two

Illegitimus non Carborondum Est

Liz and Hoshi are still talking for more than an hour, trying to work out plans and strategies for the upcoming trial when the outer door slid open again. They look toward it with a measure of apprehension – the cell door is still open as Liz had left it.

But though Security Officer Jim Cien is at the door, he is not alone. When he catches sight of the open cell door, his eyes lock on Liz's and there was a wealth of communication in the silent gaze they share. By the time the outer door slides shut again, Liz is considerably subdued.

Hoshi, on the other hand, was thrilled to see her 'guests'. In fact, by this point, she would have been thrilled to see a Klingon.

However, it is not a Klingon that stands just inside the outer room, but Reverend Patricia McCabe OSJ and Tia Anlor.

x

McCabe had been assigned by the UESPA to Enterprise a little over a month ago as their Chaplain; part of a program to place personnel on all Starfleet ships for the purpose of seeing to the spiritual needs of a crew on long space missions. It is a pilot program which is meeting with mixed results throughout the Fleet.

McCabe is an Episcopal Priest assigned to assist with the spiritual counsel of eighty one humans of varying backgrounds and faiths, a Denobulan, a Vulcan and an Auran. Her greatest asset to the crew is that she, at least, has something few of her fellows have, an extensive background in Psychology and Psychiatry. In terms of the diversity she had to deal with, these disciplines actually put her in better stead than her Ministerial training, though the other is actually her primary purpose and focus.

Another real advantage she has with this crew is a very personal relationship with a key member of it. For most of her life she had known, and had at one time been engaged to be married to, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed.

McCabe is in her late 30's, though the most specific she had ever been was that she was 'as old as Malcolm', which was not very revealing considering the reticence of the Armory Officer to discuss anything personal – most especially his earlier or current relationship with the Priest.

She had grown up barely a kilometer from him, so their accents were distinctly similar. Hoshi could place them to particular streets in their home city just by listening to them speak. She is 5'9", with long chestnut hair and piercing brown eyes that seem capable of seeing into one's soul. She wears, as she always does 'in public', her Clerical 'uniform' consisting of black trousers and a royal blue shirt that buttons up the back, leaving the front smooth.

The collar of the shirt is a stiff band of white an inch high, and from a cloth 'collar' of the same shade as the shirt and occasionally lost against it hangs the red, white and gold cross of her Order; a red Roman cross behind which the eight white arms of a Maltese cross shows, while in the vertex is a black Temple cross upon which is a red banner with a slanted gold cross. The small emblem therefore conveys the combination of several 'faiths', conveying also the multiple disciplines of her Calling.

x

Beside her stands their friend Tia Anlor. A refugee of the conquered planet Aura, Tia had been found months ago, the only survivor of a derelict vessel that had been used in a desperate attempt to flee the forces controlling her world, only to be hunted down by them. The other fugitives had been killed, but Tia had survived – barely – and since her rescue had been living on Enterprise.

The Auran had numerous differences from her human friends, but the vast majority of these were internal. The one visible and notable external difference between their races was that Tia's had evolved on a planet where gold was as plentiful as iron was on Earth, and had become the principal element of life. Gold does not carry oxygen, that is true, but in a trimolecular bond that only Phlox and Tia and the others in Life Sciences really understand, it does the job. Thus, her blood and skin pigments are hues of gold, tinted as much as a human's is tinted in varying shades of red; her long hair is more golden than blonde and even the irises of her eyes are golden.

Commander Trip Tucker had taken one look at her and his heart had been completely lost to the young refugee; as much as hers to him. They were the 'hottest couple' aboard Enterprise, and Hoshi knows there are several clandestine pools in existence speculating on when the man was going to wise up and ask her to marry him.

x

Hoshi's reaction on seeing both these women is vast relief. "Thank God! I thought no one would ever come."

"What do you mean, child?" McCabe asks, taken aback by the enthusiasm of her greeting.

"I haven't seen anyone all afternoon. At least, no one but Liz here." She says, including her friend seated next to her. "I don't know – I really thought someone would come to see me in my last hours." But then her high spirits die, and she looks down. "I guess I don't know people like I thought."

"How did you get in?" Liz asks.

"I'm a Priest visiting a prisoner. They _can't_ keep me out. I think they realize I'd immediately contact the Chaplain-Admiral's office."

"How'd you get Tia in?"

"I just told her to follow me."

They realize she could have come up with any kind of outlandish excuse, but anything of the kind would be lying to one of her flock, and that was something she would not do. But by simply leading Tia in on her own authority, she gave the guard an 'out' should anyone complain. If there were repercussions, she would accept the 'heat'.

x

McCabe steps into the cell, Tia joining her in the now considerably crowded smaller room. "How are you, my child?"

Hoshi looks up at the Priest, trying to keep her emotions from stealing her voice. "I'm scared. You're the only visitors I've seen. The Court Martial is set for 1500, less than an hour away, and I still haven't seen – or been assigned – an Advocate."

"That alone should be grounds for dismissal." Liz insisted.

"I wish. But do you really see them doing that? Let a Starfleet ordered Court Martial fall through on a technicality?"

"This is one _hell_ of a 'technicality'!"

Hoshi turns to McCabe. "What about you? You offered to be Tigat's Advocate."

The woman shakes her head. "That was different. She was going to commit professional 'suicide'. I was obliged – obligated – to try to help her; to prevent her from throwing the rest of her life away. It was a desperate measure, but one I was using only to stall the Hearing until she could come to her senses, or we could reach Starbase Two and she could get the services of a real Advocate.

"The fact is; I'm a Psychiatrist and a Priest; I am not _qualified_ as an Advocate. The laws I know are of 'right' and 'wrong'." She watches sadly as the hope dims in Hoshi Sato's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Hoshi looks up at the Priest, imploringly. "What chance do I have?"

"As far as I see it," Liz, seated next to her on the bunk, maintains, "you can fight this on the grounds that you have no legal representation."

Hoshi sighs. "Starfleet will order me held in here until we get to Earth. Either that or they'll _send_ someone."

Liz sits back against the wall with an equally heartfelt sigh. "This is madness."

x

"I'm really not going to get out of this one." Hoshi declares, feeling depression trying to take hold.

"I know you're worried." Liz commiserates. "But what was that old expression you taught me once? 'Illegitimus non carborondum est'."

Patricia chuckles softly.

"What that is?" Tia asks. Normally she had enough trouble keeping English straight. Hoshi motions for Patricia to answer.

"That's from an archaic language known as 'Latin'. I didn't think anyone outside the Church – other than Hoshi – would even be familiar with it. Broadly translated, it's 'don't let the bastards wear you down'."

"Did you have to study Latin in the Seminary?"

"Oh, yes. We can't get along without it – the ancient texts are still there for us. And I remember some Seminarians could be holy terrors, as it were. It does wonders in 'diplomatic situations', as long as no one has a UT. You can say absolutely anything you want to someone and have it come out sounding elegant."

"They say tact is the ability to tell someone to 'go to Hell' in such a way that he'll look forward to the trip."

"Exactly."

"But I guess you haven't had much cause to use it here."

"Only with Malcolm."

x

But the laughter lasts too short a time when the outer door slides open again. Hoshi's hopes peak; then fall when she sees that her visitor is Crewman Mark Simon. He is a good man, true; but he is not a lawyer, nor highly enough ranked to get her out of this.

He is holding a folded bundle in his arms, and stops in the outer room as the door slides shut behind him. "Ensign Sato?" He asks diffidently, seeing the 'crowd' of visitors in the small cell.

"Yes?" Hoshi asks, standing up.

"I brought you your dress uniform." He extends the bundle to her. It is very familiar indeed. The uniform is of the same design as the blue one she wears, but the cloth is much finer, with a definite sheen. She does not make a move to take it.

"Why?"

"Er, I was ordered to, Ma'am. Lieutenant Reed … he thought you'd probably make a better impression in it than …" The younger man's voice trails off.

Hoshi can see how uncomfortable the man, barely more than a boy, is; and she does not want to appear difficult. Her problems are none of his doing. Reaching out, she takes the bundle with a small smile. "Thank you."

"I just wanted to say …" he continues as he relinquishes the uniform, "…to say that I hope you … that is …"

"Thank you."

"I'm not allowed to stay. I just wanted you to know how I …" He reaches the end of what words he can find.

"Thank you." She repeats, a little more visibly grateful to the young man.

"You really will make a better impression." He tells her, trying his best to be supportive.

She gives him a smile that she can not keep from being laced with sadness. "I can hardly make a worse one."

x

When he is gone, she turns to her friends. "My dress blues; suitable for Admirals, Ambassadorial Functions and Executions."

"Now you just get that out of your head!" Liz exclaims, standing up. "You're not finished yet."

Hoshi looks at the chronometer on the wall. 'Stupid place for a clock.' She thinks. 'Who wants to know the time in jail?' "If not now, I soon will be." She looks at her assembled friends, trying not to give in to her dismal feelings. "It's getting late. I'd better change."

Liz yanks her into a sudden, tight hug. "Hang in there. You've got friends who will fight for you."

"I shall speak to Malcolm." McCabe says. "I have some influence with him." Hoshi grins at the vast understatement.

"And I Shar-les appeal with will." Tia promises.

"And I'll …" Liz begins, "I'll talk to …" She tries to think of something. She shrugs, lost. "I'll talk to Jim." Hoshi laughs softly. "Maybe he can slip you a cake with a file in it."


	3. Kil tuvi vlis kaar

Chapter Three

Kil tuvi vlis kaar

Patricia McCabe leaves the cell with the two women, each separating to their own tasks. She goes directly to E deck and to a particular room, pushing the annunciation button beside the door. It slides open, revealing Malcolm Reed already in his own dress uniform. It is identical to his usual attire, just more of a bright sheen to the material. His expression shows he had not been expecting anyone, least of all her. "May I come in, Lieutenant?" Patricia asks; her voice formal for anyone who might pass closely enough to hear.

"Well, I … really wasn't expecting anybody." He replies, a bit uncomfortable. He cannot see up or down the corridor, so he cannot judge how to address his former fiancé. "This is really a bad time."

She glances up and down the corridor. They are alone. She walks into the room past him. "Too bad."

x

She strides inside, and when he closes the door she turns on him. "Malki Reed," she begins, using her old 'pet' name for him, "would you mind explaining what the …" She hunts for a word, and despite having been raised in a Navy port city, she can not think of one strong enough, "_devil_ you're doing?" She would have liked to have started out more gently, but her feelings are running high and a glance at the chronometer shows there is not much time.

"Preparing -."

She cuts him off. "for a Court Martial!"

"A Special Court Martial." He corrects her with a grin that almost sends her temper completely out of control.

She takes a deep, calming breath that utterly fails to accomplish that aim. With no one else on board would she _ever_ let down her professional demeanor – but they had passed the point of masks decades ago. "Would you mind _explaining_ to me just how you can Court Martial a woman like Hoshi Sato?"

"I –."

"I mean, I know I'm new here, but I don't understand _any_ of this." She continues her rush, not letting him break through. "Whenever you've spoken of Hoshi Sato, it was always with admiration. You said she was a good officer, one of the _best_ you've ever known. Why are you participating in this mockery of justice?"

"It's hardly a mockery. You know me better than that. On review of the evidence, a Special Court Martial is the only resolution."

"_What_ evidence? She admits to being 'out of line' on that Survey Mission yesterday. She admits to Insubordination. I understand those are 'disciplinary' problems, not 'criminal' ones. You throw someone in the brig for a definite time, take away their privileges, suspend them, fine them some pay, but this is an entirely different level. What can she _possibly_ have done to warrant _this_?"

Malcolm turns to a wall panel, touching a few controls. On the screen a large volume of text appears. "See for yourself."

Patricia McCabe steps closer, really wanting to see this 'evidence'. She reads for a few moments in silence and finds herself growing angrier by the second. As her outrage grows, she finds herself clenching her hands in hard fists, struggling to restrain herself. Finally, unable to endure it any longer, she whirls on Malcolm, her eyes burning with such fiery intensity they would sear him where he stands.

"Malki Reed, you are a _sick_ son of a _Bitch_!"

xxx

Tia opens the door to Trip Tucker's quarters. These are the only quarters on the entire ship she can open with a touch, and when the door slides aside it reveals the surprised Chief Engineer, who is just finishing the final touches to his dress uniform. She strides into the room, speaking even before the door had fully closed. "Shar-les. Kil tuvi vlis kaar. (::This you stop must.::) Qualsia!" He had been looking in a mirror as she entered, and now turns to her in surprise. It was well for him that over the past few months he had picked up a smattering of Auran, for she was so distressed she could not 'keep her English'.

"Stop it? Why would I want to stop it? I'm the one who _started_ it."

"Daai." She agrees. "So vlis - _stop it_ you can." He looks at her, unable to imagine why she would say this to him.

"Why should I stop it?"

"She your _friend_ is. Tuvil _miscurai_." (::Your _friend_.::)

"Tia, honey, as far as I'm concerned, this Special Court Martial is long overdue. I'm glad to have arranged it."

She is shocked, backing away from him, horrified.

"Tia?" He cannot understand the look of utter horror on her face. "What's wrong?"

"_Li tuvi kir dresnaqu nyasi_!" She exclaims. (::I you do know not!::) Opening the door, she bolts out of the room.

x

Tia runs down the corridor, her mind in a whirl. Wrong. It is all _wrong_. Madness. Everyone is _mad_. Insane. This cannot be _happening_ in any sane world. Shar-les could _not_ be doing this. It made no sense!

She stops short in her headlong flight. A plan. She needs a _plan_. She can not help her friend if she does not have a plan. And if Shar-les, a Makvier, a 'Commander', is involved in this madness, there is only one place to turn, only one person aboard who can restore sanity.

xx

Jonathan Archer is just finishing the final touches to his dress uniform when the buzzer sounds at his door. "Come." He turns to the opening door, surprised to see Tia beyond it.

"Wrenaouq Archer?" She asks apprehensively. Her long golden hair is disarrayed, her breath coming heavily despite her efforts to control it.

"Yes?" She steps in, allowing the door to close behind her. She carefully draws herself up to her full height, forcibly composes herself and speaks in her most formal tones. "Wrenaouq Archer, Li ka -." She bites back the words, growing frustrated. "I the Ambassador Aura of would kislan – would curla - talk – would _speak_ you to." He glances at the chronometer, mildly surprised by her formality. He can tell her words are fractured in the distress she seeks and utterly fails to hide.

Lately, whenever she had spoken to him with any level of distress, it was about the ongoing but fruitless search for the stolen Silurian ship they had learned about weeks ago, bearing other refugees from her world but running silent and lost. He knew she was desperate to find her lost fellow Aurans, but they had not spoken about it in some time. And she usually did not come to him about it in such high emotion. Normally he would have taken the time he needed to decipher her distress, now is not the right moment.

"Any other time, Miss Anlor, I'd be happy to. But I'm a little pressed for time."

She takes a step forward, coming right up to him, saying vigorously. "Nyas. Study I your laws have. When to you an Ambassador comes does, _listen_ you must!" His surprise mounts. _Never_ had she addressed him so forcefully. There had been a time when she was so frightened to speak to him at all that she had fallen to her knees, head and body bowed low, wrists crossed behind her back, reverting to the manner of a slave rather than facing him.

That more than anything else makes him say; "Go ahead."

"This Court Martial you vlis must. You _stop_ must!" His surprise mounts.

"Why?"

"Kaar vas sei!" She exclaims. "_Wrong it is_!" He shakes his head.

"It's not wrong. In fact, it's long overdue."

x

Was the universe _mad_? She had feared it, maybe it was so. Maybe the universe itself was going insane. That was the only reason for the behavior of her friends against one of their own. "So does Shar-les say, but kaar vas sei." She bites it back. 'Dalplintu!' (::Translate.::) She thinks. 'Masfalyan ti dalplintu misa nyasi!' (::Forget to translate can not.::) "Wrong it is. Wrong _he_ is!"

"Miss Anlor…"

"Qualsia. Please. Vas vlis tuvi hras." She shook her head. "Kranstat!" She curses in frustration at losing the words. "It _stop_ you must!"

"Why?"

She shakes her head sharply, frustrated beyond endurance. "Why why why? Why all time 'why' you humans ask? Kylranti – '_mercy'_ reason enough _not_?"

Archer stares at her in wonder. "Miss Anlor -."

"_Qualsia_." ::Please.:: She steps closer, directly up to him, having to look up to him, her plan collapsing. She can only fall back upon a desperate plea, trying hard in her distress just to find the right English words. She knows she is out of time; she has only one chance left.

x

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself, to find the words that would sway him to mercy. "Wrenaouq Archer, _powerful_ you are. Much power you your people among have. Do you what can another not. Overcame you the Silurians did. Make you treaties with worlds I seen have, and your planet they abide must. Conquer you _time_ have. Create you me an Ambassador, to for my people speak to yours. Command you all this ship and those aboard. Speak you and do they.

"Know that I do things have nyas. Nyasura; thing no. These clothes mine are not, from you they come. The food I eat is mine not. Mine is thing no. Yet you me have made a voice for my people among yours. Said you that day months ago 'While I don't object to the occasional salute, a member of my crew will kneel to no one; not even me'."

She took a step back, and he could see on her face that it was a hard step indeed. "Since that day straight have I stood, held I your people before the honor of Aura I tried have. _Swore_ did I that to man or woman would _ever_ I again kneel not.

"But now…"

x

She holds her skirt and has to visibly fight herself as slowly, very slowly and reluctantly, she forces herself to go down to her knees before him. He can see the great effort it takes her in her reluctance to do so, after months of learning not to abase herself, yet she kneels.

"But now," she says, looking up to him, her golden eyes glistening with unshed tears, her voice breaking, "to _you_ I kneel do."

She presses her upraised hands to her chest, flat to her chest above her breasts, her fingers touching her shoulders. "To you who here all powerful are I do …"

It takes her a moment to say the painful word. "I do _beg_! She my _friend_ is! Kylranti muur – _Mercy_ have." She tries to blink away stinging tears, her breath breaking. "I you _beg_! Kir kil nyasi. Qualsia! Do this not. Please. _Please_."

x

Deeply moved, Jonathan Archer slowly comes down on one knee before her, looking into her imploring eyes. He reaches out, drying a tear from her golden cheek. "I only pray, Miss Anlor, that when my day comes, I will have a friend like you."


	4. It tolls for thee!

Chapter Four

It tolls for thee!

Hoshi, wearing her dress uniform, is brought by Security Officer Cein into the Mess Hall, the only room large enough for these proceedings, and she is appalled to find it filled. It seems like every crewperson who could fit into the room is here. She had hoped for a limited exposure of her shame. Now, no matter which way the trial goes, she must endure an unmercifully public humiliation.

In the far end of the room is a long table, one of only two tables remaining in the room, these rectangular and square rather than the normal round ones. At the main one before her is seated Captain Archer, to his right is Sub-Commander T'Pol and Lieutenant Reed. To his left is Lt. Abrams from Life Sciences and, to her monumental shock, Lt. Seamus O'Cathain!

She stares at him in utter disbelief. _How_ can her dearest love sit on her Court Martial Board?

There is a thin corridor within the rows of spectators, running from the door to the 'bench', and a vacant area about seven feet wide before it. She is led to the center of this empty rectangle. She looks around as she is brought up, finding Jennifer, Dina, Andrea and several other of her closest friends scattered about the room. Trip Tucker is seated at a small table to her right, as close to the edge of the vacant space as he can be. She very pointedly does not look at him.

She looks around for friendly faces; and her heart pounds as she finds how many of the people she knows so well, felt closest to, are there to see her humiliation. Indeed she is even more profoundly shocked to see Liz Cutler and Tia Anlor seated with Patricia McCabe in the second 'row'.

She looks pointedly at them, but they return her gaze with no distress or apprehension. In fact, they look calm. _Too_ calm. Far from the women who had left her barely an hour ago with pledges of support for her case.

x

The Trial Board is also in Dress Uniforms. She stands before them, mouth dry and heart pounding. 'This cannot be _happening_.' She thinks urgently, desperately. 'I've got to wake up. This _must_ be a _nightmare_. Please, let me wake up. Please. _Let me wake up_!'

Captain Jonathan Archer reaches out and picks up a small brass hammer, striking a brass gong in four sets of paired strokes.

Hoshi, seeing the gong, is stunned, recognizing it as having come from a shelf in _her_ quarters. She stares at it in disbelief. She cannot believe they would have the _gall_ to enter her private quarters and just _take_ her personal property to use 'against' her!

Archer, acting as if all were normal, stands and addresses her in grim tones. "Ensign Hoshi Sato, you appear before this Board of Special Court Martial to answer serious and grievous changes. Under Starfleet Regulations, a Board must consist of no less than five Command personnel. I have therefore appointed," he glanced at each in turn, "Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, Sub-Commander T'Pol, Lieutenants John Abrams and Seamus O'Cathain." He picks up a paper. "The charges and specifications –."

x

"Just a minute!" Hoshi exclaims, looking about. Archer lowers the paper, mildly surprised. He had not expected her to interrupt. "Where's my _Advocate_?"

"There is none."

"_What_?" She is absolutely shocked. He can _not_ have said that.

"In a Special Court Martial, Starfleet Regulations decree that the role of an 'Advocate' is superfluous." His tone indicates his seeming surprise that she does not know that. He looks again at the paper in his hand. "These Charges were brought to our attention by Commander Tucker, and frankly I was astounded when they were amassed to fourteen Charges and forty-two Specifications. The first actually goes back to barely a month after you joined this crew, and I –."

"_Wait_!" She exclaims, finding her voice. Archer looks up, and she is shocked at the expression on his face, which seems to say 'why are you interrupting?'

"Ensign, you'll get a chance to respond, but later."

Hoshi is stunned, mouth actually hanging open, but as he starts to read again she has had all she can stand. "_NO_! I don't know what's going on here, but I am _not_ going to be silenced. I _demand_ to have my say _now_!"

She cannot believe that Archer looks at the other members of the 'Board' as if something unexpected has happened.

"What is going _on_ here? You're bringing up something that happened _years_ ago? You've never indicated that my performance was unsatisfactory. In all the time I've been aboard you have never expressed _any_ dissatisfaction with my work. Now suddenly I'm up on _Charges_? For things that happened nearly two _years ago_? I know I was out of line on Declan IV, said some things I shouldn't; but those rate a Reprimand, not Court Martial. Now Starfleet directs a Court Martial – you know what that will do to my _career_. I'm arrested; deprived of Counsel; allowed no visitors; given no access to the Charges so I may prepare a defense; marched in here in front of the entire _ship_; this is probably being broadcast. I'm forced to _stand_, you don't even give me a damned chair," she pointed a finger trembling with rage at the brass gong before them, "and that is _my_ _gong_! You broke into my _quarters_ to get it!"

She forces herself to stop for a moment, feeling her control weakening. Rage is one thing, but if she gives way to the tears of betrayal and fear she feels, she knows her case will be lost. "You bring me here to strip me of my dignity, _humiliate_ me before everyone on this ship; it'd be more merciful to _beat me to_ _death_ than to let this _travesty_ go on."

x

During her words, Trip Tucker had crossed the room, and now bends over the table, whispering to Archer. He signals to the other members of the 'Board' and they huddle together, conversing in whispers as Hoshi stands trembling as much in physical reaction to her 'tirade' as from her fear.

Several times different members of the 'Board' glance at her, but their faces are unreadable, and her anxiety increases. She cannot stop trembling, her breath catching in her throat, heart pounding so heavily she can barely hear anything else, and she fears she might actually faint.

A long moment later the conference ends, Tucker goes back to his table and Archer stands up. She cannot read their faces; even Seamus' is closed to her. "Members of the Board, you have read all the Charges and Specifications in this case. How do you find the defendant Hoshi Sato?"

She is shocked. This can't _happen_.

Malcolm Reed stands up, his expression grim as she stares at him in a confused welter of emotions.

"Guilty."

x

Hoshi gasps, feeling a knife driven into her heart. She covers her mouth to keep from crying out or sobbing. This is _madness_. Sub-Commander T'Pol stands up.

"Guilty." Hoshi's breath locks. She cannot breathe, unable to believe two people she'd worked so closely with, thought of as friends, could do this. It is wrong. This can't be _happening_! She feels the second knife twisting through her heart as Lt. John Abrams, head of Life Sciences, stands up.

"Guilty." Hoshi can't breathe, standing trembling in shock as her friends and colleagues kill her. She was not really close to this man, did not know him well, but she'd always _thought_ he was fair.

But then Seamus O'Cathain stands up, and she feels her first real hope. Suddenly she _understands_ Archer's plan.

x

If the Board has to vote to end this, and that vote has to be _unanimous_, he will _stop_ this travesty. This is the 'out' her friends have orchestrated. _That_ is why Seamus is up there – _to legally end this_. For the past year they are dating, truly intimate. She knows him as well as she knows herself, and their love is deep, real and fulfilling.

She meets his eyes, locks upon them; all her hope focusing on him.

She tries to send all her love to him, down that deep, spiritual bond they share. He will save her.

His eyes meet hers, and she knows the anticipation she sees in them.

She _knows_ he will save her!

x

"Guilty."

x

He tears the knife through her heart as Hoshi feels the tears come, her shaking breath silenced behind her covering hand. She cannot _believe_ it. They are in _love_. He didn't even look away. No remorse, no grief, no guilt. He simply _killed_ her.

The knife in her heart twists with an agony that forces a cry from her covered lips as she squeezes her eyes tightly closed to clear the stinging tears, feeling them trickling down her cheeks.

When she forces her eyes open again, Jonathan Archer stands up. "Hoshi Sato, you have been found guilty of the Charges against you. It is the ruling of this Court that you be stripped of the rank of Ensign; along with all of the rights and privileges attendant to that rank."

x

Hoshi's heart stops. She can't breathe. Her body goes as cold as death itself, but then a greater horror fills her as she sees Archer signal to O'Cathain, and he comes around the table toward her.

"You _bastard_!" She whispers to Archer from behind her covering hands, her voice trembling, trying to hold back the tears as he sends her beloved to _execute_ her. "You _fucking Bastard_!"

O'Cathain stops before her, and she forces herself to wipe her eyes and cheeks, to lower her hands; to control her trembling body; to hold back the tears, to not humiliate herself further than she has already been. She forces herself to meet his eyes.

"I really hope, Hoshi, that this does not change anything between us."

x

She is too shocked to answer. He had voted _against_ her, was going to _ruin_ her publicly, _humiliate_ her, and he was concerned about their _relationship_?

"Oh! no! sir!" She answers with as heavy an irony as she can achieve; her hatred for him in this moment as incendiary as her love had been.

She stands up straight, forcing herself to keep her hands to her sides, to stand still, forcing herself not to move, not to show what she is feeling. Her control is fragile, her heart pounding in her chest, but she is determined to take it with as much dignity as she can muster, even while her pounding heart is shattering and she trembles with grief and betrayal.

He reaches out, taking the zipper of her uniform and lowering it as she stands perfectly still, barely breathing, not moving at all; fighting to keep her face frozen into an impassive mask as her heart shatters. He lowers the zipper just enough so he can reach the back clasp of the silver rank pin on the right side of her uniform.

She keeps perfectly still, eyes locked forward past his head but unwilling to see the Officers beyond. He does not touch her at all as he works. Just as well; for she swears in that moment that he is never, _ever_ going to touch her again.

He finishes, raising the zipper back up to its former place. He takes a step back from her and snaps to Attention, executing a crisp salute as his lips break into a wide grin.

"Congratulations, _Lieutenant_!"

x

The entire room comes to Attention, saluting smartly, holding the Honor as she gasps in disbelief; then can breathe no longer. Her heart is pounding; pounding very, very hard. She looks down to where a second rank pip, a twin of the first, gleams on her chest. She looks about her, the entire room motionless in Honor, holding the salute until it would be returned; then up into the grinning face of her beloved; back to her chest with the twin rank insignia glinting in the light; at her friends and colleagues surrounding her; at the Command Crew before her holding salute and grins of delight while behind them the background seems to dim; at the pins again, now seeming to grow oddly dim; at Seamus going out of focus, the background behind him dimming; at the pins which seem somehow to shine, out of focus in a closing darkness a moment before a part of her stunned mind remembers in the final moment that she'd stopped breathing and had never resumed.

Seamus O'Cathain is just close enough to catch her before she hits the floor.

Epilogue

Unfocused, diffused light comes to Hoshi Sato first, even before the awareness that she is lying down and that there is a gentle hand patting her right cheek. She opens her eyes wider to see a circle of faces looking down from high above her, one particular face very close at her left side. "Seamus?"

"You okay, honey?" He asks, concerned. She realizes she is lying on several chairs placed together, not entirely comfortably, as he kneels beside her and the Command Crew surrounds her, several other bodies visible between theirs in a field of Starfleet blue. She looks down at herself, a moment of anxiety banished by the sight of two silver pips on her chest. "Yes, it's real." He confirms.

"We're really sorry, Hoshi." Archer says, coming on one knee beside her so she can see him better. "When we realized you thought all of this was _real_, that you were in trouble, we jumped to the 'last page' of the script. We thought you knew what a 'Special' Court Martial was, that it's all a Starfleet tradition."

"I never went all the way through the Academy, remember?"

"Now we do."

"And I wasn't allowed any visitors."

"Most people use this time as a period of reflection upon their careers, and preparation for their new lives. We didn't realize you wouldn't see it that way."

He holds out his hand. "I'm sorry you were …" His voice falls off as he realizes he doesn't have a strong enough word for what she'd been through because of that lack.

"Inconvenienced?" She offers, surprised she is able to smile and liking it. She takes his hand and he helps her to sit up. The chairs feel a lot more comfortable when she can sit in only one. "You know, this has the trappings of a practical joke."

"The promotion's real, Lieutenant. As to the rest…" He is forced to admit that: "I guess you could look at it that way. Traditions do tend to be … interesting." He catches the look in her eyes. "All right, one freebie a piece." He promises.

"You'll never know what hit you … sir."

"I look forward to it." He helps her to her feet, where everyone is waiting to greet and congratulate her.

For a few moments Hoshi is caught up in a whirlwind of her friends, but finally she comes face to face with Seamus again.

x

"I'm sorry about the gong, honey." He says. "I thought it would mean more to have something personal involved in the ceremony."

"Well… I guess …"

"You should know, Lieutenant," Archer says, to save any further embarrassment, "that you have some very good friends among the crew. Those who haven't been to one of these went to … extraordinary lengths on your behalf."

She turns to the throng of friends surrounding her, knowing who and what 'extraordinary lengths'. "Thank you, all." She turns to Trip. "But you… I thought that you…"

"Oh, don't make a mistake; I _was_ angry, and if you ever do that again I'll slap you in irons, or just slap you silly." He says with a smile, and she is able to grin a bit as well. "But after I cooled down, and started reviewing your record; which really is exemplary, by the way; I started thinking that maybe you were right about some things, things I had been … well, not closing my eyes to, but still not seeing. So I amended my report."

She turns to Archer. "Those 'strong recommendations'; the ones 'that take the matter completely out of your hands'."

"Starfleet had to approve the promotion, of course, as well as other recommendations Trip made."

"It's that point you made on Declan that crystallized it." Tucker tells her, feeling a bit sheepish considering how things had progressed. "There really _was_ an … imbalance with the female officers, as you so dramatically pointed out. In fact, we're going to be looking into that in the coming weeks." He tells her, sharing a non-secret.

"I trust that there will be a clearer understanding about the 'Special' in this … tradition."

"Count on it."

"Well, Lieutenant," Archer catches her attention, "there's a celebration in your honor as soon as we get this room put back into shape. But before then, though we had a moment of 'emergency' to deal with, _you_ have some unfinished business to complete."

"I do, sir?"

"Yes." He comes to Attention, saluting crisply and holding it. Throughout the room, every officer and enlisted person duplicates the gesture, the few civilians doing so as well.

Lieutenant Hoshi Sato looks at her friends and colleagues; all those she loves surrounding her, and hopes the smile on her face hides the lump that forms in her throat and the moistness in her eyes. She draws to Attention and returns the salute as sharply as she ever had.


End file.
